


forged in iron

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Swordfighting, Swordplay, its the handle not the sharp part i swear, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale has to endure lessons as a soldier as heaven prepares for the eventual war. gabriel teaches him how to better handle a sword - amongst other things
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Kudos: 23





	forged in iron

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired i fucking kid u not by the odd amount of sexual tension in jennamarbles jiu jitsu videos,, if u know u know anyways make love not war in the most sexy sense

he’s never been particularly good at sword fighting, nor has he excelled in any other areas of the aggressive side to life. considering himself soft counts as more than just a descriptor for his body - his hands are lax, lustrous, with the smooth palms and bruiseless knuckles of an angel who far prefers play over work. and it's not that he can't fight. no, he most certainly _can,_ it's only . . . well, he sees little point to it. there hasn't been a proper quarrel he couldn't escape with the snap of his fingers and a twinkling miracle in quite some time. truly, it seems a better, _wiser_ choice to avoid conflict altogether. there’s nothing he can't get out of life through asking that _demanding_ will make any easier. 

gabriel doesn't seem to see it that way. from his sharp, cold eyes, to his even sharper blade, he's reckless and swift and _rude,_ aziraphale decides, because, really, does he need to be swinging that thing so close to aziraphale’s neck? does he absolutely require such brutalities in the effort of teaching aziraphale how to defend himself - he hadn't bothered with even mentioning instructions on how to take the offense. indeed, though aziraphale highly doubts he’ll actually be left to his own devices by the time the war arrives, ( _if_ it arrives, he has to remind himself, because there's never any harm in being hopeful) gabriel seems convinced he can snatch the upper hand, somehow, in whatever battle he ends up pursuing when the time comes. he even expects him to lead his own platoon - the nerve! he could have at least asked before setting him up for something like that.

the practice room is as blank and empty as the whole rest of heaven, perhaps even a little emptier. aziraphale fusses with his hands the whole while, chewing at his lip, counting the seconds between each grope of his teeth into soft flesh. gabriel doesn't bother with a subtle entrance. he comes bursting in, slamming the door open and shut with an equal amount of force for both efforts. aziraphale flinches each time, finding the little white stool he’s been offered an awfully shaky, unsteady thing - much like himself, he supposes. gabriel is already carrying his sword on his hip, fully sheathed, but intimidating nonetheless. aziraphale gulps down his quickening heartbeat, hoping the throbbing in his throat will subside with time.

“you're ready?” gabriel asks him, gruff and straight to the point, with no introduction. aziraphale looks him up and down, putting forwards his best attempts at not dragging his eyes along gabriel’s form. he does look quite nice in his military gear - of the same shape and general outline as aziraphale’s own, but a gentle, pale shade of lavender, and bedazzled with his fair share of medals. during teachings, gabriel abandons all his usual fits and flairs of polite mannerisms, downsizing to a sharp, severe aggression that aziraphale can already sense burning off of him. he watches those big, wide hands grip for the sword at his side, tugging it just far enough that aziraphale can see the briefest glint of polished metal - truthfully, he wouldn't put it past him for gabriel to have a sword made of silver. there won't be any flames today, at least. that's off limits (and thank the merciful almighty for that.)

“i - i don't . . . “ aziraphale pauses, because he doesn't have much to say that won't expose itself as an obvious effort to prolong the inevitable. gabriel may not be the brightest, but even _he_ can surely tell aziraphale is dithering over this. with a sigh that escapes him before he can trap his mouth shut, fluttering like a bird cage door falling closed too late, he capitulates. “of course, thank you.”

“up, then.” gabriel pulls the sword from its sheath, and rests the tip against the underside of aziraphale’s chin, guiding him upwards, whether he wants it or not. aziraphale resists the urge to stammer uselessly, reaching for his own sword, and feeling the blade rather flimsy in comparison to what gabriel has to offer. from the moment he's got the whole thing out, gabriel is upon him. 

he starts slowly - as slow as gabriel can go, that is. bringing down a raining hit that aziraphale just barely manages to block, his sword shaking at the weight of gabriel’s pressing into it. gabriel pulls back, a steely reserve of judgement poorly hidden behind his eyes, and he says without smiling, “not bad. a parry would be better.”

“i-i’m sorry?” aziraphale gasps, snapping into action, and scrambling out of range when gabriel goes for a hit once more.

“dodging is a meager, if beneficial skill. you can only dodge so many times, aziraphale, before you're caught.” gabriel strikes at him again, this time nicking the faintest breath of his cheek, just deep enough to prick blood. he sighs, shaking his head, and tutting under his breath, pointedly loud enough for aziraphale to hear.

“now, how do you expect yourself to get anywhere in a fight,” another hit, this time aiming for his knees, a grand sweep meant to knock him off his feet entirely. aziraphale’s wings work overtime somewhere in the astral plane, carrying him along as he jumps backwards, floating more than he falls.

“if you don't even _try_ to strike your opponent?” gabriel asks, his foot catching underneath aziraphale’s feet before he can find steady ground. he sends him collapsing, the floor cruel and cold against aziraphale’s cheek, with gabriel’s attitude no less miserably overbearing. a boot comes to rest against his chest, holding him down, and aziraphale can feel the life squeezed from him as the pressure burns fiercely, gabriel’s weight trapping any breath he dares to inhale before he can catch another. the worst part, aziraphale decides, though he has little room for thinking in a situation so reliant on the body over the brain, is how gabriel isn't even using the majority of his strength. he’s going _easy_ on him. and his easy is too much, too deep a bruise for aziraphale to bear.

he grabs his own sword, and holds the tip trembling to gabriel’s throat, grazing over his adam’s apple. gabriel pauses, grinning, with one brow raised in a cocky tilt of self-aggrandizement. his hand is calloused and remains uncut when he wraps his fingers firmly around aziraphale’s blade, the steel digging into his hard palms, but never once daring to marr that beautiful, perfect skin. he rips it upwards, taking aziraphale with it, and forcing him onto his stomach - an even more helpless position, aziraphale can't help but bemoan. 

“you endanger yourself,” gabriel kicks his sword away with a careless flick. “the more you don't fight back, the greater your chance of losing, being hurt, being _killed._ ” he snarls the last part, betraying his composure with a frustration that seems to give way to more concern than anger. aziraphale scrabbles with his hands, trying to push himself up, but gabriel falls to straddle him, holding him down with just his body. when aziraphale presses back, he can feel him, he can feel _something._ and, dear lord, may the almighty forgive him for having such sinful thoughts in her own kingdom, but he’s pretty sure that’s gabriel’s . . . well, surely it can't be - unless? 

gabriel presses the thin edge of his sword to aziraphale’s throat, leaning over him as he grumbles in his ear, “you ought to be more careful, you don't know what can happen in the middle of a fight. don’t let your guard down, not even once.”

“y-yes sir,” aziraphale dwindles, his cheeks flushing unbearably hot as he realizes gabriel’s cock is very much so shifting against his backside. even worse, he's quite stiff, hard enough to have aziraphale’s cunt piquing with poorly-timed interest. if he could scold his body into submission, he'd likely say something along the lines of, _’not now, you can at least wait until we’re back home.’_ but as it is, he can only squirm fruitlessly beneath gabriel, praying his struggle does nothing to exacerbate gabriel’s current erection. 

“you're hopeless,” gabriel quips, sharp and stilling as aziraphale freezes up at the words. gabriel, of course, doesn't take lightly to any sign of hesitation in a fight. he slams aziraphale’s head down, his cheek to the floor, and moves in so close aziraphale can feel his hot, prickling breath shooting up the back of his neck, tingling nerves against his ear. 

“what are you going to do when the enemy has you pinned down like this?” gabriel hisses, his voice low and gritty in a way that siphons all the air from aziraphale’s lungs, making his stomach drop. his cunt pulses, the first drip of wet slipping past his folds, and he tries, quite terribly, not to let himself look too affected. he fails within seconds, because gabriel is twisting his head back, tugging at his curls in one sharp movement, and growling, “tell me _now.”_

“please!” aziraphale sobs, his nails leaving scratches on the floor like claws against ice as he tries to worm away. “you can't - i need - i need a break, please.”

gabriel tears him upwards, dragging him by his collar as he flips him around, their faces impossibly close, before shoving him down to the ground once more. before aziraphale can pull his flimsy limbs into some sort of defense, gabriel’s got his sword pinpointed right at the center of his chest. heaving, he lets gabriel glide it downwards, his body betraying him as he sniffs and gasps to catch his breath.

finally, his luck seems to run dry. gabriel brings the sword to his kilt, held against his pelvis, and his lips curl in a twitching, thoughtful frown. something close to realization - whatever poor facsimile gabriel’s brain can manage, that is - flickers behind his eyes. he almost looks surprised as he says, “you’re aroused.” 

aziraphale, both all too defensive, and a little bit terrified, snaps, “so are you!”

and gabriel laughs, his polished smile gleaming, all white teeth and perfect pink lips. even with his hair dampened by sweat, rustled and unkempt, he still looks the epitome of a professional business man. dragging the sword lower, it rests just barely atop aziraphale’s mons, digging into the soft cushioning of flesh. aziraphale wriggles backwards, eventually catching himself on his elbows, and sitting up slightly. 

“it’s only natural, and a tradition of the art, for a man to harden during any decent match.” gabriel says, twirling his sword before sheathing it in its hilt. he’s so careless about it, lacking his usual perfected caution, and aziraphale spots the crack in his immaculacy like mice dig for holes in a house’s foundation. he shoots downwards, snatching up his sword - the one gabriel had so unnecessarily kicked away, with such little respect - and whips around to thrust it at gabriel wildly. in return, he's only greeted by gabriel catching his arm against his back mid-spin, flinging aziraphale onto his belly. the sword falls with a solid, simple clang, like a bell announcing the fight already won.

“i’m one step ahead of you, aziraphale.” gabriel sighs, rolling his eyes, as if exhausted of aziraphale’s inadequacy, longing for a worthy opponent. “now, spread your legs.”

aziraphale pauses, caught by surprise. his breath hitches, ears tingling with a rush of warm blood as gabriel leans down behind him. on his knees, sitting up straight, he drags aziraphale’s sword up the path of his thigh. it slips under his kilt, cool metal burning against overheated skin. aziraphale trembles, poorly gathering his wits. “p-pardon?”

“you heard me.” gabriel chuckles. “you want this, don't you? i won't touch you if you don't want me to.” 

“please,” aziraphale sighs, going lax as the tension of hiding his arousal floods over with peace. he props himself up, shaking on his hands and knees, and begs - because he knows gabriel won't let him get away with not asking _politely._

“i think i . . . i do - i want you to touch me, gabriel.” he coos softly, hoping his attempts at seduction don't fall too short. he can hear gabriel laughing, and it shocks his cheeks a vibrant red, embarrassment taking over. but before he can muster up anything better, gabriel is tugging his panties down. they bunch around his thighs, and gabriel hums when he strokes his fingers through the slick. he’s almost musing on it, on the state aziraphale’s worked up to. aziraphale kind of wants to kick back at him like a frightened horse for the indignity of it all.

“you want my mouth, don't you?” gabriel murmurs, his lips a silky heaven as he traces them up aziraphale’s thighs, kissing and sucking delicately just below his cheek. aziraphale nods, yelping when gabriel gives him a little pinch, and chastises, “i can't hear you.”

“i do,” aziraphale whimpers, pitifully squirming when gabriel cups at the plush lips of his cunt. he grinds into his palm, slicking up gabriel’s hand until the slide is smooth and easy. gabriel thumbs at his clit, stretching the hood back, and rutting against the sensitive tip with enough force to have aziraphale breathless. 

he cries out, losing composure at last. “please, please, i need - i want you to - fuck - right here, please, _hurts.”_

fingering desperately at his own cunt only tempts more laughter from gabriel. he flips aziraphale onto his back, his head getting lost in the wrinkles and folds of aziraphale’s kilt as he dives under. aziraphale squeals, kicking his feet around gabriel’s neck, and arching his back up desperately. his eyes wide, overwhelmed and slightly terrified with the brilliant, sharp pangs of pleasure. gabriel is licking over him, into him, his tongue is brutal and demanding, dipping inside and stretching him despite its softness. when he sucks against his clit, trapping it between eager lips, aziraphale grows urgent. bucking his hips like a wild, barely restrained animal, and scrabbling at the floor, begging gabriel for something in between, _’slow down,’_ and _’please, more.’_

“oh, god.” aziraphale pants, sinking into the ground when gabriel comes back up. “it's not fair,”

“what isn't?” gabriel asks with a grin.

“how you're good at absolutely everything.” aziraphale sits up, his arms on the verge of giving out. 

gabriel’s smile only widens. there's a hint of something sadistic to it now. hedonistic, like he wants to squeeze all the pleasure he can from aziraphale. flipping him over again, and holding him up with an arm around his stomach when he nearly plummets forwards, he settles behind aziraphale. hips flush together, gabriel’s cock throbbing between aziraphale’s thighs. 

“inside,” aziraphale loses grasp on his words, forgetting how to form a complete sentence. “want you.”

gabriel, fortunately, is quick to appease him. though he's nothing short of _humiliating_ when he tilts aziraphale’s head down, ass up in the air. groping at his posterior, and squeezing the tender flesh until it reddens against his touch. aziraphale whines, wiggling his hips, and praying gabriel will spare some mercy. 

“if you can't beat me in a fight, i’ll at least help you build up some stamina.” gabriel presses the head of his cock right to where aziraphale’s blossoming open for him, blooming with so much slick it practically spills over with the first inch gabriel slips inside. aziraphale gasps, relief washing over him, only to be replaced with a far greater, more demanding need. he tries to back up, being stopped by firm hands on his hips, stilling him completely. 

“ah, ah, ah,” gabriel tsks, “let me show you how to take it.”

he goes slowly, terribly slowly. enough to build up an ache inside aziraphale that has his mouth watering, eyes damp, as he feels rather like a rabid dog held back by its chain. he wants, and wants, and _wants_ so badly. gabriel won't give him anything. each thrust seems to drag on lazier than the last. and it's not even deep enough to make up for the anguished pace. no, gabriel can't be anywhere more than halfway in at this point, holding out on aziraphale until he bursts. eventually, aziraphale balls his fingers into fists, pounding the floor as he cries, “just fuck me already!”

“such language,” gabriel chides, “i _was_ going to get there eventually, but since you’ve been acting so spoiled - “ he hums, debating aziraphale’s fate. 

aziraphale feels him pull out like a gaping wound, twisting around to chase after him. “gabriel, please, i’m sorry, please don't!”

“hush,” gabriel scolds him, making aziraphale wince, shrouding in on himself. “i think i know what a bad angel such as yourself needs. in my lap, right here.” 

he pats at his thighs, sitting back to make it easier for aziraphale. aziraphale, feeling rather like a naughty child, flushes as he acquiesces. it’s warmer like this, and he can't help leaning back against gabriel’s chest.

“legs spread,” gabriel commands, “that's right, good boy.”

“what are you going to do?” aziraphale asks, feeling hopelessly lost on gabriel’s intentions. gabriel kisses his temple, reaching for his abandoned sword, and grabbing it by the blade. aziraphale’s chest tightens, realization dawning upon him. 

“my . . . are you going to use my sword - “ his eyes bulge, widening as gabriel presses the pommel to his cunt. the hilt is ornately designed, textured with grooves and bumps, and a girthy, round pommel. though it takes a bit of force pressing past the first barrier of resistance, aziraphale stretches on it, wincing when gabriel thrusts it back and forth to soften the movements with slick. 

“i - should you - will it even go all the way in?” aziraphale stammers, nerves frayed to the point of naivety. realistically, he knows it will fit. speaking in terms of logistics, it's not that much thicker, or longer than gabriel’s cock. but it seems like so much more of a challenge. it _feels_ bigger when gabriel sinks it midway down the handle, making aziraphale squirm and scratch at the polished floor. 

“silly boy,” gabriel kisses him again, this time against his cheek. he couples the affection with another two inches inside aziraphale, as if trying to distract him. aziraphale keens none the less, groaning as he lurches over, starting to sweat and pant. 

“come back here,” gabriel laughs, pulling aziraphale to him once more. “just relax, let it happen. don’t fight it.”

“it’s so much,” aziraphale admits, gritting his teeth. “a-and we’re in heaven, what if she's watching, what if - “

gabriel cups a palm over his mouth, tilting his head back, forcing him to face the startlingly white ceiling. the lights burn into his eyes, he struggles to squint. but soon, gabriel is shocking them open again, fucking in and out of aziraphale now with the sword. it’s a hard, brutal pace. the sort that makes all sorts of embarrassing sounds, skin meeting metal, and the wetness of his cunt mortifyingly audible. it shakes his whole body, tugging flinches and frantic, almost frightened sounds from him with every slam inwards.

“if god sees this,” gabriel’s voice is low, gravely. “then she’ll be enjoying the show. let's make sure she knows what a good angel you can be.”

aziraphale goes limp, crying out in sync with each thrust gabriel gives him. he squeezes his eyes shut, unable to bear the concept of being witnessed like this, much less by the almighty herself. gabriel, of course, only seems spurred on by his bashfulness. whispering in his ear, kissing and nipping at the lobe until it goes red, overdosed on attention. he sucks at what he can of aziraphale’s neck, the collar of his uniform not giving much leeway. 

“so good, gabriel.” aziraphale heaves, gasping between pants. he reaches back to clutch at gabriel’s hair, fingers twisting in short, bristly threads at the nape of his neck.

“again,” gabriel encourages, speeding up until aziraphale’s choking, tears welling, spilling down his cheeks. 

“you're so good to me,” aziraphale sobs, wiping his eyes, and sniffling softly. “the - the best archangel, best leader, please, please, _please_ let me cum, gabriel.”

“well, i do suppose you’ve taken your punishment awfully well, haven't you?” gabriel pauses the sword for a terrible, aching moment. “ _haven't_ you?”

“yes!” aziraphale nods, whining with relief as gabriel continues thrusting. 

“then it's only fair, isn't it? cum for me, sunshine. let me watch.” 

aziraphale, for all his noise leading up to it, goes quiet by the time he reaches climax. his legs jittering, mouth gaped open, though little more than a few squeaky moans slip out. gabriel is no less tortuous than he was before, rolling his fingers over aziraphale’s clit, and rubbing it against the handle. aziraphale shivers until he can barely take it, pushing at gabriel's wrist with a faint, “no more.”

the sword dips from him once gabriel lets it go. hitting the floor with a weight aziraphale can't even hear, his ears ringing. gabriel rocks him back to a more complete state, cupping at his cheek, and guiding aziraphale into his chest, letting him nuzzle up for comfort. aziraphale pulls in a few shaky breaths, before glancing up to gabriel, fighting off his dizzy spirals.

“did i do a good job in sword practice, sir?” he asks politely, making gabriel laugh at the formality.

“of course you did.” gabriel pats his back, soothing the motion over with gentle strokes of his palm when aziraphale jolts. “a-plus, you did everything i asked of you.”

aziraphale’s courage dims, eyes cast to the ground as he says, “can we do it again sometime soon, sir?”

gabriel tilts him up by his chin - it’s the first time he's done that today with his thumb, and not the point of a blade. his mouth meets aziraphale’s, melting him softly, a silent reassurance that _yes, there's plenty more where that came from._

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to say here i had smth to say but i forgot it im gonna go eat some tangerines happy fucking holidays


End file.
